Elias strode across the room and kissed Eliza’s cheek. “Father not home yet?”
“You can see that he isn’t,” Eliza snapped. “Did you leave him in the counting house? What was he doing?”
“Mourning over his ship, I should imagine. Sherry?”
“I’ll wait for your father.”
Elias shrugged. “As you wish. But you might be glad for preventive fortification before he arrives.”
Eliza’s face fell. “Can it really be that bad? I saw the cargo list—all solid items from Hamburg and Saint Petersburg. And, just as I predicted, the tobacco sold at a good price.”
“Indeed.” Elias nodded.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“The long and short of it is, the Grand Turk is too big. We have to stay in port longer to sell and buy cargo, assuming the goods are available, and that means more port fees. She requires a substantial crew. She isn’t nimble enough for the market. Father kept her for pride, not good business.”
“I’ll have a glass of sherry after all. Make it a large one.”
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